


Caprica: Lee

by SomewhereApart



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The flipside of <i><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/somewhere_fic/341.html">Caprica: Kara.</a></i> Kara tells Lee about what happened on Caprica, and asks him to help her forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caprica: Lee

**Author's Note:**

> Major, major thanks to [](http://callmeonetrack.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://callmeonetrack.livejournal.com/)**callmeonetrack** for her fabulous beta skills.

Lee wakes to the feel of a warm body on top of his, and the dull, metallic scrape of his bunk curtain being yanked shut. He’s pinned, one arm crushed between his stomach and his visitor, and he recognizes her by smell (regulation soap, the shampoo he swiped from her locker for safekeeping when she left, and a little bit of sweat) before she breathes a soft, insistent, “It’s me.”

“Kara?” he asks needlessly, and his voice scratches slightly, rough from sleep. He can hear her breath, quick and shallow, can feel the slight dips of the mattress where her hands are braced near his shoulders. And he can feel the tension of her body against his, which brings his attention back to the fact that that his arm is trapped. His palm against his own stomach, the back of his hand low on her belly. Lower than might be considered polite.

With a slightly nervous swallow, he tries to ease it out of the danger zone. He’s almost surprised when she shifts to make space between them. Then her fingers are around his wrists, strong and a little slippery, and by the time she’s pinning both his arms next to his head he’s upgrading his “almost surprised” to “a little concerned.” The fact that she hasn’t said anything in more than a minute does nothing to reassure him.

“Kara?” he asks again, a little more wary this time. Something is wrong, but he knew that. She wouldn’t be climbing into his bunk in the middle of the night if everything was fine. Truth is, something’s been wrong with Kara ever since she came back, and that she won’t let him in hurts more than it ought to. Especially considering he knows better. He knows her. This is just her way.

But she’s quiet lately, disconcertingly quiet, so when she tells him in that vulnerable tone he’s so unaccustomed to hearing from her that she wants to talk about what happened on Caprica, he surrenders completely. He lets his muscles sink into the thin mattress and nods even though she can’t see him, as he says, “Okay. I’m listening.”

It takes her a second to start, and he knows Kara well enough to know that she hates being vulnerable so he just waits. Waits, and tries not to notice the warmth of her when she settles a little lower against him. Her hips are pressed against his, her knees hugged up against his body, her breasts brushing his chest with only a thin layer of cotton between them. Lee starts reciting the alphabet backward to keep his mind from straying to places it shouldn’t.

After what seems like an eternity, she finally begins her confession. His stomach twists a little when she admits that she took a beating from a cylon when she was nabbing the arrow. He doesn’t like thinking of her behind enemy lines with no back-up, even though he knows she can handle herself.

She tells him she was shot and his heart starts to pound, even though he already knows. Helo told him, on Kobol. He hadn’t given the details, though, and when Lee hears how the resistance just left her behind, he thinks he might have to pay Karl Agathon a visit and pound his face in for not making absolutely frakking sure Kara was with them when they retreated.

When she tells him she was captured by the cylons, held vulnerable and sedated by the enemy for days, all he can think is that he wishes he’d crammed himself into that smelly, viscous raider with her, because he’d run into Centurion fire to drag her ass out if she went down, and apparently no one on Caprica gave that much of a damn. The combination of anger and fear for her has his breath quickening, his muscles going tight and tense. He wants to touch her, but he gets the feeling that she’d balk at the contact, so he clenches his fists tight instead.

Then she tells him about the second scar, about how she doesn’t believe the cylons’ story about internal bleeding, and her voice shakes a little. Lee feels sick at the possibilities (Did they take something out? Put something in? Is she carrying some frakked up cylon half-breed like the Sharon in the brig?). And then she keeps going, and it just gets worse.

By the time she gets to, “And then we took the heavy raider, and jumped back to the fleet,” all he wants is to be able to undo it for her. He doesn’t know what to say to make it better, but he can’t stay silent either, so he takes a deep breath intending to thank her for confiding in him, and that’s when she kisses him.

Once Lee gets past the initial shock of her lips on his, he notices that she’s not so much kissing him as keeping his mouth shut with hers. The pressure of her mouth goes slack for a second as she shushes him, and then she kisses him in earnest. As kisses go, it’s not terribly heated, but it’s persistent, and he’s pretty sure his heart is pounding so hard she can hear it. He thinks he should stop this, knows it’s probably a mistake, but he wants her to know he’s here for her, so he presses his lips back against hers just a little. At least, until he feels her move, the heat of her hips rubbing against him with unmistakable intent. A kiss is one thing, but sex…

She still has his hands pinned, so he turns his head and says her name, but she just pins him down more tightly and puts her mouth on him again. Her breath is hot against his jaw when she speaks, but it’s the way she pleads with him – “Please. Lee, I – _please_.” -- that makes him squeeze his eyes shut tighter. She sounds desperate, needy, and like she hates herself for it. Lee can’t bear the sound and can’t bear to hurt her more than she’s already been hurt, so he works to be gentle when he tries to tell her that she needs to stop and really think about this. He never gets the words out, though.

“You need-“

“To forget,” she insists, and gods, he so desperately wants to help her do that, but they shouldn’t do this. “I need to not remember what happened. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

He wants to give in, wants to heal her in any way he can, but he’s not sure if this way is right (his body disagrees, but his conscience tells him it would be taking advantage and he refuses to become another thing that violates her), so he stalls for time. He jokes with her about his sexual prowess: “A few minutes? What happened to all your cracks about ‘the great Apollo’?”

“All speculation. Apollo has yet to prove he lives up to the hype.”

“Ah.” If nothing else, he’s allowed her to recover enough that she sounds a little more like Starbuck and less like Kara, so he thinks maybe he can let her down gently now without feeling like a complete jerk. He tries to free his hands again, but she’s having none of it. He wishes that just once Kara would make it easy for him to do the right thing. “Still. Kara, I don’t think this is the right—“

She silences him with another kiss, this one hotter, harder, and her hips are moving again. Torturing him. Wearing down his resolve with the strength of hers. _Z, Y, X…_ She makes this little sound, a soft “mm,” and her hands are so tight on his wrists he can feel pulsebeats but can’t tell if they’re his or hers. _W, V, U…_ Her tongue flicks against him, and he bites the inside of his lips to keep her out. _T, S…_ The slow, steady friction of her is having its effect and he can feel himself begin to stiffen. It doesn’t help that her breasts press into his chest with each inhale. _R…_ He’s pretty sure she’s not going to let him out of this, and he’s less and less confident that he wants her to after all. _P – no, Q… P…_ Maybe he doesn’t care as long as she doesn’t. _O, N… M…_ Maybe she just needs to take her body back from the cylons, and he’s the one who can help her do that. _L, K..._ Maybe this is what they need. Maybe quiet honesty in the dark is what it takes for them to find their way to each other, finally.

Lee stops resisting and lets his mouth go soft under hers, not the least bit surprised when her tongue dips in and teases against the tip of his. Then she’s telling him to stop thinking, and when he feels her teeth against his lip, he’s the one making the quiet moan.

“Just be Lee,” she says, and he thinks that Lee is the sensible one who doesn’t do the impulsive thing. That’s her, that’s Starbuck. His job is to pull her back when she goes too far. But maybe Lee is also the one who keeps Kara grounded, and maybe that’s what she needs to feel safe tonight, so he decides that yes, he’ll do this. They’ll do this.

If his palms weren’t sweaty before, they are now, and he tries to pull them away one more time, because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it right. Again she resists, so he turns his head and evades her mouth when he tells her, “I need to touch you.” He doesn’t realize quite how true the words are until he’s said them, but as soon as they’re out of his mouth his hands are itching for her skin. He _needs_ to touch her, needs to feel that she’s alright, and that she’s safe. But maybe more than that, he needs to feel her come apart in his hands, needs to make sure that when he makes love to Kara it’s not something she does to him but something they do together. His voice is a little softer, a little warmer when he tells her again, “I need to be able to touch you, Kara.”

She pauses like she’s considering the option, and then her weight shifts and his right hand is free. He finds her knee first, feels the muscle in her thigh clench when he drags his fingers up the length of it. Finally being able to touch her after months of watching and years of wanting is a treat, and he wishes he could spread her out underneath him and put his hands on every warm inch of her. She still has his other hand pinned, though – so tightly that his fingers are tingling slightly from lack of blood flow – so he doesn’t think he’s going to be steering this ship any time soon.

Contenting himself with what he can reach, he skims his hand up her hip, slides it under her tank and along the small of her back before bringing it around to her belly. Her skin is hot and smooth, until suddenly it isn’t, and it he doesn’t realize that the faint ridge under his fingertips was a fresh scar until her stomach jerks in and away from him. He freezes, tries to calculate the days since she was shot, how much she should have healed, but he has to factor in the exertion of Kobol, and he decides it’s easier to just ask her. “Do they still hurt?” he murmurs, caressing softly just outside of where he felt the scar. Maybe they shouldn’t do this after all…

She admits that they do, a little, and he starts to pull his hand away but she’s pressing toward him, so he never loses contact with her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he insists, her fingers falling against his mouth to shut him up again as she assures him he won’t.

“I hiked Kobol for days, in the rain, and I was fine,” she reasons, and he wants to tell her that she should rest up and heal fully, but he settles for pressing a kiss against her fingertips. “A little sex won’t send me to sickbay. Now, stop talking.”

And then she’s kissing him the way he always thought Starbuck would, full throttle and all heat, and he knows there’s no changing her mind. Her fingers trail over his throat, raising a crop of goosebumps and making his hair stand on end. Lee busies his own hand with her skin again, swooping around her back to skate her spine before finally letting himself skim around to her breast. She’s soft against his palm, and when he cups and kneads, she sighs into his mouth and makes that sound he loves again. His thumb finds her nipple and teases around the stiff point, over and over until she bites his lip again and pushes herself up.

They’re both panting a little as she finally releases the pressure on his pinned wrist, and the whole time she’s guiding it to her other breast all he can feel is the blood rushing back into his palm, his fingertips. The contrast in sensation is distracting – his right hand is full of soft, yielding flesh, the left feels like its gripping a pin cushion. He tries to think past it, though, focusing on the way she’s squeezing his fingers over her, and the friction of her grinding against him again through several layers of cotton. When he has both hands working in unison against her nipples, she starts to move more urgently against him, gasping and panting, and he feels the way her body stretches as she sheds her top and then her weight is pressing over him again.

Her breath comes faster as she kisses him and rubs her hips in short, sharp bucks against his, driving her heat against his hardness. And it’s good, it’s so good, but he knows if she keeps it up, the friction could easily go from delicious to painful, so he lets one hand wriggle between them, slipping into her briefs and searching out her clit. His fingers hit slippery skin, so wet he’s almost surprised he couldn’t feel it through three layers of cotton, and he thinks he has to have her _now_ , right now, but then she’s biting his neck, hissing his name, and he wants to hear what she sounds like when she comes. His own satisfaction can wait.

The movement of his hand rubs his knuckles against his shaft, and her breathy little moans into his ear might be the hottest thing he’s ever heard, so he knows he has to speed this up before he lives down to their teasing about his stamina. Rolling her nipple in his tight grip, he presses his fingers harder between her legs, syncs the rhythm of his hands until she’s shaking and bucking against them, and all he can hear is Kara – gods, _Kara_ \-- saying his name over and over as she climaxes.

When her body sinks onto his, heavy and sated, he’s afraid she’s going to come to her senses and leave him with possibly the worst case of blue balls in the history of the universe, so he says her name and rubs his fingers against her again. The sound she makes is new, a low, throaty moan, and then her tongue is on his pulse and he’s going to go crazy. She says something but he’s not entirely sure what, because she’s kissing his neck, tongue swirling, lips sucking and he can’t frakking wait.

Thankfully, she seems to have the same idea, and a minute later they’re naked and her hands are on him, and then he’s sinking into her and clenching his teeth together so hard he worries they’ll crack. Or he would if he could think anything other than “so hot” and “so wet” and “Kara.” He knows if she moves now, it’ll all be over, so he gropes blindly for her hips and holds her down against him until he thinks he won’t pop at the first thrust.

She leans over him, starts an easy rhythm that lasts for about ten seconds before they’re grunting and moaning and biting at each other’s mouths, and Lee’s about to lose it but he knows she’s not there yet. He gropes for something to hold himself back, and ends up reciting the Presidents of the Colonies, starting with Hanset, then Landor, Grant, Kallet, and, and— _gods_ , the way she feels, the smell of her sweat, the taste of her mouth. She’s pounding her hips down against him, quick and hard, and he’s bucking up to meet her and not even a bunch of old politicians can take the edge off the fierce pleasure, so he gropes between them, pressing his fingers to her again.

She cries out, fraks him harder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, feels everything draw tight in his gut, her name spilling off his lips. He feels it rising, can’t resist, so he shifts his hand to her thigh, drives his hips deeper into her, and that’s all it takes before he’s coming so hard he sees stars.

Under his palm, her thigh twitches and her breath is quick and shallow, punctuated with soft moans, so he knows she didn’t get there with him. Instead of wasting time beating himself up over it, he just slides his hand back between her legs and thumbs her clit. He doesn’t bother to be gentle, especially not when the rougher touch has her nails curling into his shoulder. In no time, she’s coming, letting out these breathy, sighing moans that are loud enough she’s probably waking the other pilots, but he doesn’t care because _this_ is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard, and he wants to write every damned moan to memory so he can replay them later if he has no one but his hand for company.

She collapses onto him, there’s no other word for it, and his fingers are still trembling just a little as her breath comes in quick puffs against his neck. Palms settling on her back, he strokes up and down, up and down to guide her back into herself. He’s not sure what will happen now, not sure if this was just a one-time thing, so he’s a little wary when she shifts and pushes herself half off of him. But she’s just changing positions, settling her body along his side and easing one of her thighs between his. Convinced she’s not going anywhere, he pulls the covers over their sweaty, sleepy bodies, and wraps an arm around her back to keep her close.

Neither of them says anything right away, and he wants to make sure this doesn’t get awkward, so he grasps for a way to tell her that this was okay, that they’ll be okay. He knows he didn’t last particularly long, but he can still feel the slight quiver of her muscles, so he figures he’s safe in teasing, “So? Did I measure up to the hype?”

Her laugh is soft and sexy and makes him grin almost as much as the kiss she plants on his skin, the first one not meant to shut him up or turn him on. “Definitely. The great Apollo, indeed.”

Chuckling a little in response, Lee turns his head to bury his nose in her hair and breathe in the smell of her. Skin, sweat, and sex. Not nearly familiar yet, but still _Kara_ , and so, so, good. And to think, he almost lost her to the cylons, to Caprica, to a mission that landed him in the brig. Lee tightens his hold on her, finding her fingers with his free hand and lacing them with his before resting them over his heart.

Nothing has felt this right in years, and as he listens to the slowing cadence of her breath, he lets himself drift off to sleep with the knowledge that she’s safe now, and she’s his now, and he’s going to do his damnedest to keep it that way.  



End file.
